


Did you hear the thunder?

by ormache



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ormache/pseuds/ormache
Relationships: billy Hargrove / Steve Harrington
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54
Collections: Harringrove Holiday Exchange 2019





	Did you hear the thunder?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



A few months after shit went down at Starcourt, Owens had broken the news to Billy that he was well enough to go back out into the world. It had taken one look into Billy's desperate eyes to know that he was fucking serious when he said he would never go back to living with his father. Owens argued that Billy should be close to Max, assured him that they'd be able to work towards a proper brother sister relationship if he would let himself be open to it. 

A reluctant Billy couldn't argue when Owens told him he'd put down a payment on a place. It was old as fuck and all but falling apart but it had its basic amenities. A big old farm house on the edge of town, far enough out the way to go mostly unnoticed, close enough to reach out to Max if he ever felt ready. 

Owens had made sure the phone line was reconnected and his main line was scrawled on a sticky note on the wall beside the telephone.

Almost a week passes before anyone realises the dilapidated old farm house is no longer empty. Steve is driving by after his late shift at family video the first time he sees a light on.

It strikes him as weird - the place has been empty for over a year since the old man died. He figured probably someone from michigan had bought it for next to nothing and fancies themselves as a DIY aficionado.

He didn't think much more of it, exhausted from the quiet monotonous Tuesday night shift the only thing on Steve's mind was ordering a pizza, having a few beers and passing the fuck out.

Left behind in the glowing light of the room in Steve's rear view mirror, Billy paced the floor. Loneliness well and truly seeping through his bones, Billy hasn't worked up the courage to even call max yet. The food owens had stocked the kitchen with a week ago was almost completely gone and Billy knew he'd have to make his way out into the real world soon. Tomorrow, he pledges. He can do this shit.

The rain hammering against the ancient windows had kept Billy awake most of the night. He hadn't exactly been keeping up to date with news and weather, so didn't let the downpour put him off his newfound resolve to get his ass moving back out into the real world. The hood of the oversized windbreaker pulled out to offer some semblance of cover for his face, Billy gingerly turned the key in his flimsy lock and set a brisk pace towards melwards before he could talk himself out of it again.

Across town, Steve was also headed for the store having blown through the last of his smokes during yet another sleepless night. As he rolled to a stop by the store, an ominous rumble of thunder rolled above. A drenched Billy heard it too, from his spot in the aisles where he'd been weighing up whether to buy beers or save the weight and get shitty cheap scotch. He vaguely recalled the disinterested girl working the cashier from before, knew she wouldn't card him. As another, louder roll of thunder sounded above him Billy decided he definitely needed the scotch, and to get the fuck out and to the safety of his farmhouse as quickly as his legs would take him. Shit, he missed his camaro more than ever.

The light tinkle of the bell signifying a new customer was lost as yet another burst of thunder sounded, this time accompanied by a piercing crack of lightning that sounded like it could well have struck the fucking roof. The power went down immediately, plunging the store into an eerie twilight darkness thanks to the lack of windows and the storm clouds casting a city wide shadow.

"Fuck!" Cashier girl shouted before bolting through the door to her car, clearly deciding her meager wage wasn't enough to deal with this bullshit.

Steve was about to turn and follow suit when he heard the unmistakable sound of whimpering from the next aisle over. Steve's not really sure where his hero complex came from, somewhere inside the tiniest part of him yearns for the days when he didn't give a shit. Rounding the corner of the aisle Steve isn't sure what he's expecting to find, but a guy hunched on the ground with his head between his knees isn't it.

"Hey, uh, you alright there man?" Steve tries to pull off sympathetic casual. Not sure if he succeeds. The lack of response, verbal or otherwise seems to be an emphatic no. Steve inches closer, daring to crouch and rest a tentative hand on the arms clasped around the guys head.

"It's just a bad storm, it's all good. I don't think it's meant to be at its worst for a few hours yet, let me help you up and you can get home.

Without even looking up, Billy knows it's Steve. Of course he knows it's Steve. Before the hell that was his summer, Billy would have tried every convoluted trick in the book to get Steve's hands on him. This? Having his hand on his arm while he had a breakdown in the store over some fucking thunder? Not what he ever had in mind. Fuck my life he lamented while fighting to calm the fuck down.

Seconds that feel like they drag on for eternity pass, Billy doesn't want to raise his head, meet Steve's with his own red rimmed wet ones but he wants Steve to give up waiting and leave him on his own even less.

Steve's chest clenches, every last scrap of air forced from his lungs without warning when Billy finally raises his head. He'd heard that Billy had survived but that had been about as much as anyone seemed to know. He'd assumed Billy would never come back to Hawkins, much as he hated the thought he'd never see him again. Months had passed, and he'd tried to make his peace with it; never getting a chance to apologise or justify the last shit that went down that night at Starcourt.

"Billy?" Steve practically whispered, needing that confirmation his mind wasn't playing some cruel trick on him even though there was no mistaking the piercing blue eyes framed with much gentler blonde curls than the last time he'd seen them.

The distressed sobbing had abated, but a fresh silent run of tears slipped from Billy's lashes. He's used to crying, he'd always been a big crier. It had earned him some shit over the years, a twisted voice in the back of his head vyes for attention trying to call him out for being pathetic but fuck it if he didn't feel like he'd earned his right to sob after the shit he'd been through.

Billy's not sure how to respond, hasn't spoken to anyone besides Owens and his staff for months. He's given a temporary reprieve by the loudest thing he's ever heard as an even louder round of thunder and lightning crashed around the sky above.

Billy curled back in on himself at the sound, and Steve inched ever closer.

"You don't like storms? Man that's shitty luck I think this is meant to be the worst one in like, 3 years." Steve babbles. The absurdity of the idea that that would be reassuring has Billy raising his head back up to give him a glare.

"That meant to... Make me feel better?" Billy huffs out around ragged breaths, ending on something he hopes comes across as a small laugh and not a wail of distress.

"Fuck, yeah that was... That was stupid. Is there somewhere I can take you? I've got the car out front, where are you staying? I've driven in shit like this a bunch of times, if we go soon and take it steady you can be home before it gets... Worse."

Billy winces at 'worse' and mutters. It takes Steve a couple of beats to figure out what he said.

" Robert's farm? Seriously? I thought some big city jerk bought it out."

"I'm not a big city jerk anymore? Jeez, you cry if front of a guy one time. Whole reputation goes to shit." Billy's surprised at how easily the playful banter comes considering everything that had gone before. 

Steve can't help the grin he cracks, he grasps Billy's hand and pulls them both to their feet, clapping a hand to Billy's back to steady him. 

"The car is right out front, try not to get struck by lightning... Jerk." Steve hopes the playfulness comes off the way he wants - for smartass teen mode to override Billy's fear. 

The journey is alot slower than it would be normally, Steve can see the tension in the way Billy holds his body the entire ride. They manage a little more small talk, peppered with some jokes about Steve's being bossed around at Family Video. 

"Holy shit it's hot in here." He remarks as he follows Billy inside the ancient building. Neither of them ready to go their separate ways, Billy had tried to cover up his eagerness when Steve had suggested coming inside to see the storm out. It had held steady for most of the way back but it was unmistakably gaining momentum beyond the old farm walls. 

"City jerk blood." Billy retorts. "Not quite the sun of California but it'll do." 

The loudest crack of thunder yet erases any trace of humour as Billy flinches, wrapping his arms around himself and pressing against the wall. "Fuuuuck sake." He grits out, eyes and teeth both clenched shut.

"Have you always hated storms this bad? How do you normally deal?" Steve asks, hoping it doesn't come across as condescending. 

"Always. As long as I can remember. I used to uhm..." Billy pauses for a second as if weighing up the amount of embarrassment he'll get from ending that sentence. "I used to hide, in my mom's closet. It smelled like her y'know? Made me feel safe. Rooms are so big, so empty, made me realise how small I am, open and exposed like that. Closet's safer. Somehow. It made sense in my little kid head." Billy babbles. Another crash of thunder evoking another huge flinch as he tried to push himself closer against the wall. 

"Here, come with me." Steve says, brushing past Billy and heading for the stairs. 

Billy wants to make a witty remark about making himself at home but his tongue trips over itself as he scrambles to follow Steve immediately, not wanting even a second alone in the vast darkened living room. 

Steve emerges from the staircase and immediately starts opening the doors upstairs. There are alot of rooms in this old building and he can tell straight away that no one has set foot in most of them for a long ass time. Fourth door lucky he finds the room Billy has claimed as his bedroom, the bed made neatly and a small lamp on the night stand. 

"Minimalist. Typical city jerk style." He drawls as he strides into the room, Billy silently following, totally unsure of what Steve's doing. 

Steve scans the room, turning to the far wall. 

"Bingo." He says at the double wooden slatted doors of a walk in closet, crossing the room in a few short steps and flinging them open. "After you." He gestures Billy towards the closet like a waiter directing to a table in a fancy restaurant. 

"What are you doing, Harrington?" Billy asks incredulously. 

"Helping you, asshole. Now get in." 

Billy is tentative as he steps inside, the closet is roomy, only a few scraps of clothes sit folded on the shelves to one side. 

"You'd better not lock me in here and rob me." He mutters to Steve over his shoulder. 

"Damn you saw right through me huh? I really had my eye on that exquisite dollar tree lamp." 

Billy goes to turn, a witty comeback forming on his tongue gets lost as he feels Steve press against him, gently pulling the doors closed behind him. 

"You don't have to do this." He whispers, part turned into Steve he realises he's standing too close but he doesn't want to step away. 

He does have to do this, Steve thinks to himself. He had spent months wishing he had done something to help Billy when that fucking thing took hold of him. He wished more than anything that someone had been able to make Billy feel safe, then. 

The storm kicks up yet another notch and Billy swears he feels the walls of the house shake. He involuntarily reaches out to grasp at Steve, relief immediate that their hands find each other in the dark and Steve squeezes his hand right back with reassurance. 

He breathes slow, measured breaths waiting for the reprieve in the thunder. Steve delicately circles a small pattern into his hand with his thumb and it's quite probably the gentlest most caring thing anyone has ever done for Billy since his mom left. His breath hitches as yet more tears threaten to fall. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, almost jumps out of his skin when he feels the ghost of a touch brush over them from Steve's other thumb. 

"I got you, it's OK. I know I probably don't smell as good as your mom but I'm here, you're safe." Steve mumbles assurances and he's so close Billy can feel his breath on his face. He doesn't dare open his eyes to see how close, or his own breath is gonna start hitching for a whole other bunch of reasons. Steve's hand gently slips from his lips, gently coming to rest on his chest. Steve seems to feel closer, impossibly closer. He'd turned their bodies to face each other completely at some point without Billy realising, and now the storm was the last thing Billy could focus on as every half baked fantasy he'd jerked off to about this very guy in front of him scrabbled to replay themselves through vivid snapshots in his mind. 

"I've got you, City jerk." Steve whispers, head ducking to close the height between them and bringing their lips together. Billy responded immediately, mouth desperately inviting Steve's expert tongue. Something like a groan he had no idea he was capable of making escaped from low in his throat which spurred Steve on even more. 

Steve's hands wrapped around Billy's waist, one snaking up the tight muscles of his back, the other grabbing a firm handful of his ass, pulling him ever closer to Steve, their cocks grinding together through taut denim. Sparks fly in Billy's brain at the realisation that Steve's hard. Hard _for him_. 

"Holy fucking shit" Steve pants between clashing deep kisses. "How are you this hot?" The praise triggers a pull deep in Billy's gut right down to his nuts and he dares to push himself firmer into Steve's tall body. 

"You like that huh?" Steve continues. "Want me to tell you how good you are?" 

Billy swears his knees go fucking weak, his own hands exploring the lean strokes of Steve's back and shoulders. He's not sure he can bring himself to touch anywhere else for fear of blowing his load right there in his jeans. 

"You got a pretty dick too..." Steve whispers, an expert hand rolling over Billy's hip to cup his straining dick through his jeans. "Always wanted to ask if I could touch it." Steve grinds out between kisses. To think Steve had been thinking about Billy's dick blew his mind. 

"Please..." Billy manages to get out. "I want you to so bad." 

Steve goes in for another hard kiss, his other hand coming to meet the first in a tangle of fingers at Billy's button fly. It doesn't take long to get the jeans shucked down his thighs, dick springing out, drips already forming at the head. Steve isn't gentle or shy about it, working his hands over Billy with a finessed desperation that Billy can imagine is exactly how he handles his own. 

Billy wants to reciprocate, knows he should be offering something in return but all he can do is grip the folds of steves shirt in his clenched fists, meeting his mouth for the kind of kisses so passionate he'd never dared imagine ever knowing what they felt like. 

Without warning, Steve's hand falls from Billy's pulsing dick and his kisses slow. 

"Can I try something?" He pants into Billy's ear. Billy nods emphatically, words lost in a mouth that Billy thinks is only useful for kissing Steve's lips from here on out. 

He's not sure what to expect, but the fingers trailing their way to his ass is a far from unpleasant surprise. He's dabbled with the odd stroke, a cautious fingertip here and there. Truth be told he's never lasted long enough to take it any further and the throbbing tingle in his nuts tells him things are about to go down the same way now. 

Steve doesn't fuck around, his fingers still slick from Billy's leaking dick he curls the tip of one, circling around the hole before pushing in as a moan rumbles from Billy's 3 throat. 

"You are so fucking good, I knew you'd be into it. Holy fucking shit. So hot." Steve babbles appreciatively as he deepens ever harder kisses in time with the strokes of his finger. 

"Hey, hey easy" Billy pleaded. "You're gonna make me come already." He scrunched his eyes tightly at the embarrassment but it just spurred Steve on, working kisses along Billy's jaw down to his collarbone, hitching his angle to get the pressure of his finger working Billy in just the right spot. Billy didn't hear the lightning hit the roof of the house, could have sworn the shaking was coming from inside himself as his knees buckled, ass pulsing hot and tight around Steve's expert finger as he blew his load all over the both of their stomachs. Maybe being back in Hawkins wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
